Page 51 of Fight

“Pull!” she cuts me off.

As I do, her hips twist and she jolts, releasing a small yelp.

“More!” she yells.

I grasp her calves and continue. Soon, her knees are out, and she’s able to roll to her back, scooting and wiggling side to side.

“Keep your head down! Slow!” As more of her body clears the space, I see she’s bracing one arm with the other like she’s injured. Her hands look like that of a corpse. What’s with her shoulder? Did she dislocate it? Is that what the yelp was?

When her face emerges, a smile spreads across mine, but quickly falls.Holy shit.She’s been out here too long, and there’s a big gash on the perimeter of her hairline, but at least she’s out. Her light-ginger hair is a chestnut brown, matted with blood and dirt.

“Hands too cold. Take my arm, pull it forward, and guide it back into the socket… Grab it.”

I gape at her.Okay.“Forward like in front of you or forward like in the direction you’re laying?”

“Straight in front of me.”

“Shit. Ready?”

She nods. I follow her instructions, and she winces, then rolls to her good side and pushes off the ground to get to her feet. Her fingers are as white as the snow swirling around. I curl my arms around her waist and help her up, then put her hands together between mine and blow my hot breath on them a few times, rubbing them. Afterward, I snatch the gloves from my bag and fit them onto her stiff fingers. Her teeth chatter again, and I wrap my arms around her body.

“Let’s move.”

I want to put as much distance as I can between this pile of rock and us. She has a limp, so I glance down. “Can you walk?”

“Jus’ cold. Need to c-cir-late.”

I furrow my brow. Huh?

“Needa walk!”

Circulate.

“Why the hell were you out here with a storm? What the fuck!”

She glares at me, her eyes cussing me out more than her words ever could. It’s the first spark of fire I’ve seen in her.Good, she will need that feistiness for the trek we have ahead of us.

“Gimme my pack… First aid… Hand warmers.” I’m getting better at translating her garbled words.

I drop to my knees and rifle through her backpack until I find them, then tear open the plastic wrap and shake up the pouches. There are four, but only three heat up. She leans against the mountainside while I unlace her boots and shove two of the working ones deep inside near her toes, then re-tie her back up again.

“How’re we gonna get down?” she asks, bewildered.

I chuckle, zip up her backpack, and slip out the water bottle, making her drink while I find another pouch in my bag to replace the dead one.

She takes it from me. Then stuffs her water in her bag and attempts to hoist it on her back. She grimaces as she slides it over her recently dislocated shoulder. I try to take it from her, and she yanks it back, glaring.

“Scottie, give me your bag. You can’t carry that with your injury.”

“I’ve got it!”

I shake my head at her stubbornness. I’m not going to bicker with her. “We’re not going down.”

“Yes we are! I’m not dying up here!” She stumbles to the side and catches herself with her good arm on the mountainside. She’s barely steady on her feet.

“I don’t have gear to get you over this wall, and you’re in no condition to do it yourself.” I shout over the wind.And I’m not climbing that fucking thing again; we’ve both tempted fate enough as it is.We need every bit of luck we have left to get us to the top.

“Gotta be another way down.” Her gaze scans the surroundings. “You know the mountain. Find another way.” I rip off thegoggles from around my neck and place them over her red eyes and tighten the strap behind her head.

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